


Blank Slate

by kuhekabir



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Captain America (Movies), Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protectiveness, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-23
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-16 21:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuhekabir/pseuds/kuhekabir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor is no stranger to finding trouble. This time he not only finds trouble, but also the God of Mischief. And people from his past. The crux though his, he can’t remember any of them. Will he finally stop running?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know I have other stories to finish (I am on it, I promise) but this plot bunny just wouldn't go away. It was running around in my head, driving me insane...so what do you guys think?

“What the…?”

He quickly ducked back into the TARDIS, shutting the door with a loud clang. He shook his head. Then, slowly, almost cautiously, he opened the door again so he could peek outside.

He was just in time to see the tail end of something huge and scaly swish around a corner. He blinked. No, the scenery didn’t change.

Had he gotten the co-ordinates wrong? Amy had been going on about wanting a real New Yorker Hot Dog so he’d taken off, thinking he could surprise her with one. Would only take a sec after all.

Clearly something must’ve gone wrong somewhere.

He took a deep breath. He was about to just head back inside, fiddle with the controls so he could figure out where he’d gone wrong, when a predicament caught his eyes.

A buff, blond idiot was running towards the scaly thing, swinging a shield over his head.

In all his years, he’d seen many things. Crazy things, unbelievable things, amazing things, but he’d have to admit, nothing had left him this stunned that this one act of stupid heroism. 

Shying away from conflict wasn’t in his nature. He didn’t go looking for it, he abhorred the use of weapons, but he wasn’t about to let someone die on his watch just because he must’ve gone barmy and gotten his destination wrong.

“Look out!” He hollered, jumping out of the blue police box, kicking the door shut behind him.

The blond guy was so focused on the big nasty, he didn’t see the small nasty crawling up to him from behind. Since his sonic screwdriver didn’t have a habit of working on living tissue, he flung himself in the path, pushing the guy out of the way.

They both tumbled to the ground. Out of nowhere, something flamey and pointy whooshed past him, impaling itself in the eye of the creature. It whined, flailed and died.

The guy he’d saved, didn’t offer up any thanks. Instead, the Doctor found himself grabbed by his arms, hauled to his feet and shoved behind him. As if he was trying to shield him with his body!

With wide eyes he looked at the raging battle all around him. There could be no mistake. He had made it to New York. With his perfect timing, he’d apparently arrived right in time for an epic battle.

He frowned, searching his memory. Despite being a Time Lord, he couldn’t lay claim to knowing everything about the universe. Sure, the Earth held a special place in his heart, but apparently he wasn’t familiar with every event in its history because try as he might, he couldn’t recall ever hearing, or seeing, aliens invade New York.

Not on this scale anyway. Then again, his memory was a wee bit flawed since his last regeneration. But would he really have forgotten something this crucial?

There was no time for further thought. A stunning red-head was about to be mauled. “Look out!” He shouted at the same time as running towards her. He might not be one for liking weapons but just because he’d rather go down the diplomatic route, didn’t mean he’d hold out the other cheek.

This wasn’t as scaly, huge monster with a tail. It was a man-shaped thing, wearing armour of some kind. Well, if it was human-shaped, it could be tackled.

He kicked the legs out from underneath the creature. It went down hard. The woman flung around, staring at him as if she’d never seen anything stranger than someone coming to her aid.

Seconds later, pain exploded in his head. He’d seen many stars in his life. All have been pretty. The kind he was seeing now, he could’ve done without.

##

Phil Coulson wasn’t prone to overt shows of discomfort. Or irritation. A small tick to his right eye, as Clint liked to point out, was the only warning anyone would get if he seriously got pissed off.

Usually, he liked to think he was pretty unflappable. Nothing would ever get done if he let incompetence enrage him.

"Sir, I must protest," the weasely-looking man tried to stop him again.

Phil didn’t move. No muscle twitched. He simply stared the doctor down until he practically squeaked and jumped out of the way. There. Others might've argued, wasted precious time. See much further anyone could get by applying logic? It might take a few minutes of cold staring but eventually everyone would see his way. If they knew what was good for them.

Dressed in civil clothing, he stepped outside. Waking up inside a liquid filled tank without a mask for oxygen had scared at least ten years off his life. He rubbed over his scar, currently covered by his shirt. Still, he couldn’t complain. Even if he'd been a guinea pig used for testing a new healing method. 

He shivered. His skin still itched when he thought about it for too long.

He pushed through a door, addressing Bruce who was hunched over medical files. "He's still not woken up?"

"No," the man answered quickly. "I've run countless tests. As far as I can tell, he's fine. But it's had to tell."

"So he's really an alien," Phil muttered.

"Two hearts and all," the scientist confirmed.

"I'd rather not loose an alien who isn’t hostile," Phil stepped towards the window, looking into the medical bay beyond. On a small bed, the young-looking man was strapped down and hooked up to countless monitors. His complexion was pale, but not yet worryingly so. The nutrients they were feeding him mustn't do any harm then, he mused.

Thanks to the rapid healing tank Phil had been in, his brush with death had happened only two days ago. Since then, he'd been locked up for a day, supposedly for observation. Personally, he thought Fury was just messing with him. He was fine. Itching skin aside. And he might think twice in the near future about entering a swimming pool ever again but this was between him and, well, him.

"Found something!" Tony Stark entered, the picture of excitement. Phil allowed himself a small sigh. He turned, slowly.

"Phil!" Tony hugged him, patting him on the back. Phil endured it stoically. He might've smiled for a brief second but since Stark was currently plastered to him and Bruce was still staring at his back, no one saw his slip for composure. "They let you out."

When Tony pulled back, Phil raised an eye brow.

"Right," Tony amended. "You let yourself out, got it."

"What did you find?" Phil steered the conversation towards what was important.

"This!" Like a four-year old at Christmas, Tony was practically bouncing back and force on his heels.

"A phone?"

"Yes!"

Phil's shoulders slumped for a second. This was the problem with working with geniuses. They all assumed everyone else was a mind reader.

"Is it the alien's phone?" Bruce asked, stepping up so he was standing beside Phil.

If this was the alien's phone, then…why? "Why have you only found it now?" A phone wasn’t necessarily a small device. How had someone as curious as Tony Stark managed to overlook it?

"Not my fault," the engineer muttered. "Someone confiscated the guy's clothing and ran it through decontamination until this morning. As if we haven't been exposed to enough alien spores already!"

Phil pursed his lips. Fury had his strengths. But occasionally, and Phil would only admit this in the privacy of his mind and maybe to Clint, he went slightly overboard with following procedures. Most would laugh if this came from him since he was known for practically enforcing most guidelines around here, but apparently it was a rare skill to know when to obey the rules and when to break them.

"It's now," Phil glanced at the nearby clock. "1 pm. What took you so long then?"

"I had to hack it, alrigth!" Tony sounded indignant now. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to crack a pass code of an alien? I had no references at all! I had to write an algorithm, hoping since both Natasha and Steve said he'd shouted at them in English, that he used English for his code. That's a mighty big assumption to make."

"What's the password then?" Bruce inquired, leaning slightly forward. Phil had to admit, he was curious too.

"Fishfingers."

He blinked. "Come again?"

"You heard me," Tony replied. "Fishfingers."

All three men tuned unanimously to stare at the unconscious man. What kind of man, what kind of alien, used _fishfingers_ as a password? And where the hell had he come from anyway?

"Give it here then," Phil demanded, holding out his hand. Tony hesitated only for a few seconds before he gave up the phone.

Phil scrolled through the contacts list. The one number that practically jumped out at him had his skin scrawling. He was out of the room in a heartbeat.

"Hey!" Tony protested.

Phil ignored the footsteps running after him. Tony was like a black hole. The more attention he got, the more he demanded. But if you ignored him, he would huff and puff and eventually go away.

He didn’t bother knocking when he entered Fury's office. His friend and commanding officer looked up with a pinched look.

"I want you to stop intimidating the staff into releasing you early."

Phil ignored him. "Sir," he held out the phone. "Please have a look at the number currently displayed."

Fury shot him a look which clearly told him this conversation wasn’t over but he was going to humor him for now.

"This is a UNIT number," the dark skinned man said with an even tone.

"So it is."

"UNIT?" Of course, Tony didn’t let a closed door stop him. And he'd brought Steve Rogers with him.

"UNIT is short for Unified Intelligence Taskforce," Fury answered Steve's question. "They mostly investigate paranormal activities."

"And extraterrestrial threats, Sir," Phil pointed out. Fury gave him a unhappy look. Phil clearly recalled a conversation not too long ago where his friend had openly belittled an organization supposedly looking into ET.

The arrival of Thor and what happened subsequently changed everyone's outlook on things.

Before anyone could protest, Phil took the phone back, pressing dial. He knew Fury well enough to be able to predict he would never let him just call the number unless everything had been triple checked before hand. Frankly, Phil was running low on patience. And they had an unconscious alien to deal with. For all they knew, they were slowly killing him.

"Yes?" A female answered. "What took you so long to call? It's been forever! Where are you?"

"Ma'am," Phil politely addressed her. He got the impression she would've just kept talking if he hadn't interrupted her. "I'm sorry for interrupting you but we got…"

"Who are you and what you have you done with the doctor?"

Phil barely managed to stop himself from sighing out lout. If she would have let him finish, her questions would've been answered by now. "We encountered a young man who aided two of my operatives, saved their lives actually. He's been unconscious now for two days."

"Who are you? Where are you?"

Fury made _no, no_ gestures at him. Phil pointed turned his back, pretending to be engrossed in flicking off an imaginary fleck of dust from the hem of his shirt. "My name is Coulson. I'm calling you from SHIELD. We're currently in our base in New York."

"I'm on my way."

"Ma'am…" Phil tried to get another word in but the line went dead. He stared at the phone. Well, at least one question had been answered. Their alien wasn’t new to Earth, not if someone from UNIT knew about him and clearly also worried about him.

Fury was already on the phone with the guards at front.

_RAWWWWWWWW_

Phil nearly dropped the phone when it let out a loud roar more akin to a lion mating call than a ring tone. He clicked accept because, for once, he allowed curiosity to get the better of him. There was no number displayed, so the call must be coming from a blocked number.

"What have you done with the doctor?" A male voice practically shouted through the ether.

Before Phil could get a word in edgewise, the guy continued. "Stay on the line. I'm getting a lock on your location. I'll be there in five."

Five minutes, five hours or five days…the question was academic because apparently, it had been five seconds. The air shimmered. Then, a handsome man in a long old fashioned military coat materialized out of thin air.

For a few seconds, no one moved. Then Fury yelled for guards, Steve hurled himself towards the stranger and Tony started pressing buttons furiously on his bracelet. The only one who didn’t move was Phil.

He felt tempted to address everyone as _children_ when no one showed any signs of calming down. Well then, he'll have to take charge. "Silence!" He roared. Everyone froze again. This was yet another advantage to never raising his voice. The one time he then did, everyone obey instinctively.

"Who are you? How did you get here? And what is your relation to the alien?" Phil demanded to know.

Instead of being intimidated, the guy smirked at him. Phil shot a glance at Tony. _Great_ , he thought, _another one_.

"Captain Jack Harkness, Torchwood, at your service," the guy said, rounding it up by giving him a mock salute. "I teleported here."

Phil hummed. Torchwood, interesting. He'd heard rumors but he'd never given them much credit.

Phil held out a hand. Without another word, Fury put a folder into it. "Here," Phil handed it over. "It's our preliminary medical file."

"He must've regenerated," Harkness mumbled. "He looks so young. Younger than before…maybe that's why he hasn't called."

"Regenerated?" Since everyone else seemed to have forgotten how to speak, it fell once again to Phil to ask pertinent questions.

"It's what he does," Harkness answered. "When he dies, he can regenerate into a new body. I've seen it once already."

"Impressive," Tony muttered.

Phil turned, glaring at him. "No," he simply said.

"But…" Tony objected.

"No," Phil insisted. "There will be no poking and teasing the alien until he regenerates. You're lucky Bruce didn’t hulk out on you when you tested him."

Tony managed to look sullen but Phil was immune.

"He's called the doctor," Harkness injected.

"Doctor who?"

The question earned him a near blinding smile. "Everyone says that the first time around!"

Phil narrowed his eyes.

"He's just called the Doctor. His name's a secret. Can I see him now?"

Before Phil could answer, Fury received a call.

After answering it, he looked even more constipated than before. "How many of those teleportation devices do you people have?"

"Eh?"

"A Martha Jones from UNIT just materialized at the front gate demanding to see her patient. It would seem she is our alien's doctor?"

"Oh, I would let her though," Harkness answered. "She can get rather testy if she doesn’t get what she wants. And we've only got those two."

Tony slowly inched forward but before Phil could move, Steve put a hand on his shoulders, shaking his head. He exchanged a look with the Captain, giving him a small nod. It would be better to steer Tony away form any temptation for now. If he couldn’t poke the alien for a reaction, he might be tempted to try and get at the teleportation device.

And despite his easy going and flirty manner, the tiny hairs at the back of Phil's neck were standing up right. No, this Captain Jack Harkness wasn’t someone you easily messed with. And he seemed to be particularly interested in the doctor. It would be in everyone's best interest if Tony could be kept away from both of them for now.

"Follow me," Phil declared, turning around without waiting for anyone's confirmation.

When he showed Harkness to the observation room, he gestured for Bruce to come out.

"Can I go in and see him?"

"If Martha Jones is his doctor, I'd rather we wait for her medical opinion," Phil wasn’t about to let anyone enter unless he it was absolutely necessary. A simple phone call had gotten quite out of hand.

However, he doubted anyone would be able to keep the good Captain away from the Doctor for long, considering with how much longing he was currently staring at the bed.

There was a story there, Phil could tell. He hoped it had a happy ending too. There was nothing than near death and waking up immersed in pink healing water to make one appreciate the finer side of life.

Without any further word, he closed the door behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is my lunch break offering. I tried to edit out all the typoes but hopefully you can forgive me if you stumble about too many of them. Thank you for all the lovely feedback so far!
> 
> And I am not exactly aiming for reality here. This is pure fun, at least for me. I hope it will be for you too!
> 
> Err...do I need to warn for spoilers? I am assuming that if you are reading this you are either caught up with Doctor Who or don't mind reading about what's happening on the show. I think I am also going to ignore season 7 for now. It is all a bit AU, if you haven't realized it yet. LOL.
> 
> Loki and Thor soon will make an appearance.

“There you are.” The female voice practically cooed.

He blinked, staring up at the white ceiling. Had the world gone colorless?

“Can you hear me?”

He turned his head, propping himself up on this elbows. Color bled into this vision, slowly bringing the world back to him. He smacked his lips.

“Do you want a banana?”

And true to her words, the woman held the fruit out to him. He took it, feeling tempted to sniff it. Without giving into the urge, he peeled off the skin, taking a huge bite.

“Bananas are good,” he declared, sitting up properly so he could swing his long legs over the edge of the bed.

“I know,” the dark-skinned woman agreed. “There’s more, if you like.”

He hummed in agreement. He looked around. “Where am I? Oh, what’s this?” He jumped off the bed, intending to make his way towards the tablet. If he were a cat, the curiosity would’ve probably killed him by now. After all, this was how the saying went. _Curiosity killed the cat_.

What he hadn’t expected to happen, was for his knees to go weak, giving out underneath him. 

“Whoa,” he complained as the ground rushed towards him.

A door whooshed in the background, barely audible over the roaring in his ears.

“I got it,” a gruff male voice said. Seconds later, he was practically yanked out of the unsteady support the female had given him.

His eyes travelled from long legs up to narrow hips and a broad chest until his gaze finally settled on a handsome face. “Hi there,” the Doctor smiled.

For a second, the newcomer looked puzzled, as if he hadn’t expected the reaction at all.

The door whooshed again. He turned his head, wondering who else had shown up now. And no one had answered his question yet. Where the hell was he? He frowned. What did he remember?

“Did we win?” He blurred out, eying the new guy. He looked proper even while dressed in very casual clothes. He also seemed to be a bit uncomfortable in his skin.

“I’m Agent Coulson,” the man introduced himself. “What may I call you?”

“I’m the Doctor,” he answered. “Just Doctor,” he added quickly because there was always one question which kept repeating over and over again. Quite tiring, really.

“We won,” Coulson then simply answered. The Doctor gave him his brightest smile.

“Excellent. Now, who where they?”

“Chitauri, I believe, is the correct term. They were trying to invade but we managed to nip it in the butt.” There was an amount of pride in Coulson’s voice, which in the Doctor’s opinion, was totally warranted.

Still, how could he have missed such an important even in human history? His last regeneration had been a bit violent but surely he wouldn’t have forgotten something this important. Earth was kind his hobby after all. Regardless of where he travelled to, he always ended up here. He couldn’t boast to say he was familiar with every major event in human history, but a full on alien invasion devastating New York, surely he would’ve stumbled over this at some stage.

Unless…his expression darkened. What if history was re-writing itself? It was beginning to be a trend of sorts. Cracks in the walls, little girls who could bring people back from the dead (or the vanished or whatever) by simply remembering them, remembering them back into existence. Then, there was the conundrum of River Song. Even with his experience in timey wimey stuff, it still boggled the mind to eventually end up married to Amy’s and Rory’s daughter.

Weird stuff was underfoot. So why not history changing? Time was fluent after all. But it would need a catalyst. Something major must’ve changed to affect history on such a scale. The question now was: what?

Well, wasn’t this exciting? He could barely keep himself from jumping up and down like an excited child.

“Nasty buggers those Chitauri,” he mused out loud. “How did they get here? They’re located quite at the far reaches of space…”

“They had help,” Coulson explained. “A portal of sorts.”

“Closed now?”

“Of course.”

“Excellent, excellent,” the Doctor exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. “Am I still in New York then?”

Then his face clouded over. “How long have I been unconscious for?”

“About two days,” the pretty lady answered, sending a glance towards the agent as if she was looking to confirm it. The man nodded.

“Damn it,” he swore. “I told Amy I’d only be a minute. She’ll be furious by now.” And he really didn’t want Amy mad. “Where’s my phone?” He patted down his hospital gown, frowning. “Where are my clothes?”

Then, like a dog chasing his tail, he tried to turn, wanting to see if he had a gaping hole in his gown on the back. When his theory was confirmed, he added, “Get me out of this!”

The guy who’d steadied him chuckled. The Doctor sent him, what he hoped to be, a vicious glare.

“There are some clothes for you over there.” 

The Doctor followed where Coulson was pointing at. Truth to be told, there was a bundle lying over there on the table. He ignored the way the still un-named man steadied him on his walk across. When his knees no longer felt like jelly, he shook off the support.

Without any further thought, he simply dropped the gown, grabbing what was provided.

He ignored the shocked gasps behind him. When he’d pulled on the quite loosely fitting sweatpants, he turned, clutching the dark shirt in his hands.

“What?” he asked rather defensively.

“Since when do you have no problem with getting naked in front of people?” The dark-haired man asked with a barely veiled leer on his face. As it was, he seemed to be unable to keep himself from not staring.

The Doctor blinked. His gaze travelled to the woman who sprouted a rather magnificent blush. "Amy never had a problem with it," he muttered. "Come to think of it, I think Rory was mumbling something at the time. Oh well," he brushed those thoughts away.

"Who are Amy and Rory?" the woman asked.

He couldn’t answer straight away since he was busy pulling the shirt over his head. When he was done, he couldn’t help but wonder at the odd note in her voice. It had been wistful with a note of hurt and anger.

"My friends," he simply offered, not wanting to give away any more details. "Now, where's my phone?"

"I'm afraid I can't provide you with your phone." To give him credit, Coulson did sound rather apologetic about it. "But you can use mine if you would like?" He then dug his phone out of his pockets, offering it up to him.

Without thinking about it, he closed the distance, taking the offered phone. Then, he walked back to the bed, flopping down on it. If he took longer than absolutely necessary to type in the number, no one commented on it. Actually, he'd just made sure that after dialing, the number would be erased. No would be able to get any data off the phone about the Ponds.

He reached up, brushing some errand stand of hair out of his face before holding the device to his ear. It rang only once before Amy answered. "Hello?"

"I'm sorry," he stared with. It was always better to get the apology over straight away. Especially with Amy who he had a rather unfortunate history of always being delayed. Well, he'd always shown up eventually, he amended in his mind. It wasn't as if he'd broken his word. He'd just seemed to always be delayed one way or the other. It was embarrassing, really, it was. "There was this invasion, I got distracted. I'm fine now," he added hastily. "Got hit over the head, I think. It's a bit blurry," he admitted.

"You idiot!" Amy yelled at him. "What did I tell you about running off on your own? River's here. She's been driving Rory insane."

"Well, she's your daughter," he testily told her. It wasn’t his fault if River was being difficult. And Rory could take care of himself. Despite his rather sweet looks, he could unleash his Roman Centurion self and instill fear in countless people. Well, if he wanted to. And sweet Amy? She wasn’t so sweet when angered.

"What is that supposed to mean?" She shot back at him. "I didn’t raise her. You're the one who's been popping in and out of her life, flirting with her."

"Hey!" He objected. "I did no such thing. She started it."

"Oh give it here." He could hear Rory mutter in the distance.

"Where are you?" Rory asked when he got on the phone. He flinched when he heard one of the curses Amy was flinging at his head. It wasn’t his fault he'd gotten clobbered over the head by an alien! Had he given Amy a hard time for getting herself kidnapped and exchanged with a copy? No, he had not. Why was she mad at him now?

"I'm fine," he answered instead. Because the universe seemed to have it out for him, this was the exact moment when the world tilted and stars started to materialize. "I think I need to lie down."

He terminated the call before Rory could ask any more questions. As a nurse, he would've probably tried to diagnose him over the phone. And he was fine, really. He just needed a wee bit of rest. At least now the pair wasn’t worried about him any more.

He shot up in bed as if someone had electrocuted him. "The TARDIS!"

He looked widely around the room. "I need to find her. What if something happened to her?" 

Hands pushed him back down when he tried to get up.

"You're not going anywhere," the woman announced. She was probably a doctor he deduced since she had the mannerism down to perfection.

"I'm sure the TARDIS is fine," she tried to reassure him. "Where did you park her?"

When he didn’t answer, she pushed further. "You can tell me, you know that, right?"

"I don’t even know you," he replied. "Why would I tell you where she is?"

This statement earned him a wide-eyed stare.

"What do you mean?" the guy yelled. "If this is a game, then it's a cruel one. Even for you."

"Watch it," he told the stranger. "I don’t know who you are either, and I don’t much like your tone."

"I was under the impression that you knew these people," Coulson injected.

The Doctor raised an eye brow. "Why would you assume such a thing?"

"Because her number was programmed into your phone, and she knew you. So does he."

"Lots of people know me," he muttered. "Means nothing."

Wait…he backtracked. He'd programmed her number into his phone? He rarely used it, but what if he wasn’t lying?

"You really don’t remember me? Martha? Martha Jones?" She prompted.

When there was no reaction, she looked distraught. "Why don’t you remember?"

"Oh," he smiled, hoping it would reassure her. "My last regeneration was a bit violent," he explained. "Lots of fire and destruction. My poor TARDIS had to completely renovate herself. I even crash landed. Let me tell you, it was no fun climbing out of the pool in the library and then back down again!"

"Pool? Library?" 

He ignored Coulson. He wasn’t in the mood to explain the inner working of his poor, missing ship.

"You don’t remember anything from prior your regeneration then?" The woman called Martha tried to clarify.

He nodded. "Sorry," he offered up a bit sheepishly. "How do I know you then?"

"We travelled together. We are friends."

He narrowed his eyes. Something about the statement sounded off. Could it be that there were more feelings involved on her part than she was letting on? Then again, what did he know?

"You really don’t know me?" The other man stepped into his line of view, crowding him.

"What part about violent regeneration didn’t you understand?"

"Temper, temper there…you not only turned into a baby, you also seem to have gotten yourself a short fuse."

The Doctor glared at him. "What's you're name then?"

"Captain Jack, at your service." Then the guy actually gave him an old fashioned bow.

Suddenly the ground shook. Explosions went off in the distance. Before anyone could do anything, he heard a familiar voice yelling at people outside. "Out of my way."

Then the door opened. "You're over two days late!" Amy told him, hands at her hips. Her vibrant red hair was cascading dramatically around her pretty face. It was moments like these, where he could definitely see where River got her ruthless side from.

Behind her, shots were fired. She turned her head, yelling at someone they couldn’t see. "River! I said don’t kill anyone!"

"You brought River?" The Doctor paled. "But I'm fine. I even called you. I just woke up! You can't blame me for that. Why did you bring her?"

"Oh, Sweetie. Aren't you glad to see me?" River's lovely voice could be clearly heard over the commotion outside. Then, Amy stepped aside, rushing towards him to engulf him in a rather violent hug. 

His eyes found River's, widening slightly. She was a sight to behold with her tight outfit, her unruly curls and her weapon in her hand.

But the ménage wasn’t complete yet. As if on command, Rory pushed past River, entering the room. He'd casually flung his sword over his shoulder. "It was her idea," he pointed at his wife. "She'd even tried to talk me into wearing my Centurion outfit."

The Doctor couldn’t stop the snigger from escaping. Amy finally let go of him, taking a few steps away so she could look him up and down.

"You look a bit pale," she announced.

"Got hit in the head, remember?" He reminded her.

"Don’t be cheeky, sweetie." River scolded him. She walked up to him, pulling him into a kiss. He flailed, trying to push her off him. "What?" she asked him with an angelic smile as she pulled away. "Too soon?"

She snaked her hand around his waist, practically yanking him towards her. Then, her eyes settled on Captain Jack. "Who's he? I like his looks," she purred.

Since the disaster wasn’t complete yet, arms guards finally stormed into the tiny room, brandishing their weapons in their direction.

He quickly extracted himself, ignoring his jittery legs. Now wasn’t the time to show any weakness. "Drop your weapons," he demanded. 

They looked at him as if _he as the one who'd gone crazy_. 

"I'd do what he says, if I were you," Rory helpfully offered. "The last time he asked a simple question, they didn’t answer. And we all know how that ended."

"Hey!" He gave Rory a look full of indignation. "We were on a tight schedule. And I can't recall you complaining!"

"Well," his friend admitted with a cheeky smile. "I have to admit, seeing the fleet explode did provide quite a lot of incentive to answer the question."

"There, there," Amy patted her husband on the back of his neck, smiling sweetly at him. She loved hearing about the lengths they went through to get her back. Truthfully, the Doctor loved a good story as much as the next person. He'd just rather it would actually have a better ending. They might've recovered Amy but they didn’t save her daughter.

On the other hand, River had turned out fine. A bit insane and psychotic maybe, but no one was prefect, right? Like mother, like daughter, right? Amy wasn’t the poster child for sane decisions either considering she'd been perfectly willing to tag along with a bad man in a blue box when she'd been a child.

"Do as he says," Coulson surprised everyone by saying. He even turned his back to them. "Are there any casualties?" He inquired.

"I used stun," River interrupted, sounding a bit petulant about it.

"Turn off the intruder alert then," Coulson ordered. When no one moved, he added, in a much harsher tone. "Now"! When he faced them, he glowered at the new comers. "Next time, instead of breaking and entering, why don’t you just ask nicely?"

Silence followed.

"They're my friends," the Doctor felt compelled to say.

"We were worried," Amy added. "He does have a habit of getting himself into trouble."

"It's not my fault."

"It never is, Sweetie, it never is."

He actually growled at that statement. He couldn’t help it.

"You actually blew up a fleet?" Martha finally spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper.

"They weren’t going to tell me where Amy was otherwise," he answered.

"In all fairness," Rory added. "I did ask nicely. They were practically laughing their metal heads off at me. And it was a good incentive."

River nodded appreciatively. "I wish I could've seen it. And the way you infiltrated Demon's Run was quite brilliant too."

"I just wish it would've worked out better," he muttered.

A finger found its way underneath his chin, tilting his head upwards. River's eyes smiled at him. "All worked out for the best. Believe in that."

"Since when…"

"Who are they?" Amy asked.

"I don’t know," he admitted. "Well," he amended. "I might've forgotten to mention that when you met me, I didn’t remember my past."

Amy's eyes narrowed. "Is that why you had me cook the contents of my kitchen? Fry up bacon and eggs in the middle of the night!"

"I did tell you, I was brand new!"

"Wait a minute," Rory injected. "What aren’t you remembering?"

"My previous life," he admitted.

"What?" Both Amy and Rory shouted. River swatted him over the head.

"Why didn’t you say something?" Amy wanted to know.

"What for?" He yelled before he managed to get his voice under control. "It wasn’t as if I could do anything about it. And I _was_ brand new. New body, new face, new life. Nothing to be done about it. I'd heard of stories, much worse stories, about regenerations going wrong if they are too violent. I was bloody lucky I made it at all!"

"And you didn’t think about any old friends you might've left behind? We were bloody worried!" Jack shouted at him.

"I didn’t know!" He defended himself. "It's not as if I keep records!"

Another explosion shook the base. He looked quizzically at River. "Not me, Babe, not me," she answered almost immediately.

"Now what?" He groaned, a sentiment which was echoed by everyone else in the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if what is happening here actually qualifies as plot or just as a stumbling from one awkward situation into another. I don't know. All I know is that I am having fun with this. I hope so you do!

When there was a loud crash, the Doctor couldn’t keep himself still anymore. He shook off the hand trying to keep him back, dashing from the room. So what if the world wobbled a bit around the edges. It wasn’t any worth than his TARDIS when she got temperamental. Just because solid ground wasn’t supposed to behave like that, didn’t mean he couldn’t cope. He was always fine, wasn’t he?

He paused around one corner, straining to listen. It had gone eerily quiet. There, another roar followed by a crash. He followed the sound, realizing he hadn't gone very far when he arrived at his destination. The door this time didn’t just open for him but he didn’t let this stop him. He might not have his sonic screw driver on him, but he was far from helpless.

A few seconds later, he'd bypassed the security lock, letting himself into what he thought might have been a lab pre-destruction. It certainly fit the bill with the beige walls, high ceiling and equipment strewn about. Right in the middle of the room, looking rather forlorn for its size, sat a huge green monster. He'd never seen such a creature before. Was it from another world like him? If so, how had it ended up here? Surely the humans weren’t experimenting on it! If they were, then he would assist in ripping things apart. Could be fun, right? He had no tolerance for bullies.

When the creature's eyes settled on him, it actually sniffed. The Doctor took a brave step towards it, and then, much like magic, it turned into a human. A naked human man. Well, this was certainly unexpected.

He waved at it, or him. "I'm the Doctor. And who might you be?"

"In need of clothes," the man quipped.

The Doctor shook his head. Yes, clothes surely wouldn’t go amiss. The guy got up. He winced when he stepped on a few shards of glass.

"Do you have any clothes in here?" The Doctor asked. "I could get them for you."

"That's nice," the brown-haired man nodded thankfully. "Just over there." He pointed towards a bag. "I always come prepared in case I loose control."

The doctor picked up the bag, throwing it towards the man who snatched it easily out of the air. "Thanks," he answered.

Moments later, decency was restored. Now that he wasn’t distracted by the other guy or by the nakedness, the Doctor could admit the stranger was quite handsome. "Who are you?" He asked again.

"Bruce Banner," he replied. "I'm a doctor too."

"Human?"

Bruce shrugged. "Yes, human with a twist." Then he gave him a wry smile.

"What happened?"

"Experiment gone wrong," Bruce simply said. "If I get angry, I turn, and smash."

"Do you have a short fuse then?"

"Huh?"

"What set you off? Was there someone else in here before you went berserk? Did you reduce them to dust?" Despite the rather gruesome theory, the Doctor's interest was peaked. How strong was the green version of the mild mannered looking Bruce Banner? How exciting! It was rare for him to find something which got him this riled up. Living as long as he had, he'd seen many things. He wouldn’t say he'd seen it all, because the universe was a mighty big place, but he'd already been jaded when he reached the ripe old age of 800. And now? Well, wait a minute. He frowned. How come he knew this but he didn’t recognize Harkness, no Jack, or Martha?

It had happened before. Things trickling in, a few images jostling his memory, but it had never been quite this obvious before. Oh well, nothing to be done about it. And if he wanted to look at the bright side, he could make friends all over again! Wasn’t this just awesome?

"A sample got ruined. Then Tony kept on calling my cell. I let my frustration get the better of me and before I knew it, hello other guy."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you!" The Doctor walked towards him, holding out his hand. After a puzzled look, Bruce shook it. "What's with the noise?" He asked a few seconds later. The banging was getting on his nerves.

"They're trying to get in."

He blinked. Then a huge smile broke out across his face. "Oh! I must've locked the door behind me. Sorry!"

Bruce actually snorted at him. "You know," he said casually. "I was the one who looked after you while you were unconscious. Sorry that I couldn’t do much more for you."

It was not the Doctor's turn to shrug. "Should we let them in?" He asked.

"If we have to," Bruce didn’t seem to be thrilled by the idea but he sounded quite resigned.

The Doctor walked back to the door, tinkering with it until he managed to disable the automatic lock-down he had accidentally triggered when he snug in before.

"Hi guys," he waved at the startled faces. "We've got everything under control here. You can put your guns away," he said to the guys holding out their weapons towards them.

The only warning he got was red hair before he was slapped in the face. "Hey!" He protested, holding his stinging cheek.

Amy wiggled her finger at him. "Don’t you dare run off without me!"

Jack bulldozered his way through the bodies until he was at his side, grabbing the Doctor roughly by the shoulder. "How about don’t run headfirst towards explosion at all?"

"But where would be the fun in that?" He actually seriously inquired. If he wanted to stay save and sound, he would've never stolen his TARDIS to begin, and he would've never started meddling in things which, technically, weren’t any of his business. Safe was boring. Who wanted to be bored?

Coulson's earpiece became active. He turned his back to the curious eyes watching him, speaking quietly. When he was done, he faced the Doctor. "I think it would be best if you head back to your room now. You've only just woken up after all."

"Fine," he relented. "Where's the loo?"

"Just down the hall," Martha offered.

"I'll come with you." Jack hastily added.

"I think I can managed, thank you," the doctor dryly replied. 

He pushed past the others, heading towards the loo which around here were called _restrooms_ in bold letters. Once he was inside, he quickly looked around, eyes settling on an air duck. Perfect.

Not much later, he was scrambling along a small shaft until he reached another opening. After a few seconds of listening intently, he shoved the latch away, rolling head-forward out of it. His fingers latched onto the edge, allowing him to hold himself up instead of landing head first on the floor.

Something else was going on here. It had been obvious in the way Coulson had tensed, looking shifty. How could anyone possibly assume he would meekly go back to bed? Once he had his answers, he would go and find some decent clothes before looking for his ship. Bed-rest was overrated anyway.

And he never got hurt. Not really anyway. He was fine. He surprised him by actually growling at him. He shook his head, as if the gesture could clear his head.

He snug out of the room, carefully making his way down the hallway. Sadly, his physic paper was who knew where and he honestly didn’t look the part of agent. He was still only clad in loose fitting sweatpants and a shirt. He had no shoes or a jumper. Yes, he looked just like an escapee would look like. So it was better if he stayed in the shadows.

Eventually the hallway ended before huge doors. He peaked through the glass opening, trying to figure out what was beyond. Well, on the other side was the outside world. Bingo!

The key pad didn’t hold him for long, and soon later, he pushed the door open, stepping out into cool air.

"Thor," an unknown voice boomed. "I understand that your justice might not be like ours, but for his crimes, he should at least be locked up. How is banishment to Earth any kind of punishment at all? It's a holiday at the expense of the human race!"

"Odin is wise," the guy the Doctor assumed was Thor answered in a lower volume but not without enough heat to scorch a planet. "When I arrived here, I was a fool. How is my crime so different from my brother? I tried to commit genocide. He only wanted to conquer."

The Doctor recognized Coulson when he spluttered. But it was the blond idiot who spoke instead. "I do not think it is a good idea to come here. Where is he supposed to live? Who is supposed to look after him?"

Silence reigned for a few seconds when the dark-skinned man pointedly looked at Steve Rogers. "No, Sir," the blond shook his head. "Tony's going to throw a fit. Not to mention Clint…"

"And where else do you think we can put him? Who else out there can look after him and protect the world at the same time?"

"You have my word," Thor injected. "He is not going to try and hurt any more people. Besides, I will be at his side constantly."

"Really, Thor," a familiar voice drawled. "Don’t make any promises on my behalf. I'd hate it if you looked like a fool."

It couldn’t be, right? What were the odds? He sniffed the air. Was he hallucinating? Was there a special scent in the air which made today, out of all days, so special? Or was this simply the universe having a laugh?

"Loki?" He almost carefully asked. His hearts started to pick up speed, thundering in his chest.

A dark head peaked out from behind Thor's bulk. Green eyes stared at him. "Doctor?"

"Loki!" This time he could barely conceal his joy. He bounced on his heels.

"It is you!" Loki violently shoved Thor out of the way, running towards him. The Doctor barely managed to take a few steps before they stood face to face, only inches apart.

"You changed," Loki commented, eyeing him quizzically. "I like it. Suits you better."

"Well, thank you." Was he blushing? The Doctor blink, smiling widely. "How have you been?"

"Oh, you know," Loki casually answered, looking almost bored. "Trying to take over the throne of Asgard for their own good, trying to commit suicide only by ending up having to conquer this drafty planet. Same old, same old. How about you? Done anything interesting lately?"

"Yes," he nodded enthusiastically. "I went to war."

"How did it go?"

"Splendidly."

"Who are you?" Thor stalked menacingly towards him.

"The Doctor," his smile dimmed a little bit. To Loki he stage whispered. "He's Thor, right? Your brother?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "He insists on calling himself that. We aren’t actually related."

"Really?"

"Long story."

The Doctor nodded. Those stories were always long.

"You're the Doctor?" Thor inquired.

"Is he daft?" He addressed Loki again. "I believe I just said that."

"You will address me, mortal."

"Err…" He stepped away from Loki, walking towards Thor, eyes narrowing. He waggled his finger at him. "I'd be careful if I were you," he threatened. "I'm not human." He rolled his shoulders. "And I don’t take very well to threats."

"You're the one they call the Oncoming Storm? Destroyer of Worlds?"

"You flatter me!" The Doctor exclaimed, pride filling him. It was always amusing what the Daleks had started to call him. Now, if those bastards would just finally all die, then he could really enjoy the humor in those names. Sadly, like weeds, they seemed to be coming back all the time. "I believe they also have another name for me. They call me Predator…"

Thor narrowed his eyes. His eyes turned to Loki who gave him his most innocent smile. Thor actually smiled back. Then, the blond looked at him again. "You're a friend of my brothers?"

"Yes?" Was this a trick question?

"Excellent!" Thor boomed again, looking as if he'd just swallowed a sun. He was practically glowing with happiness. "You are a mighty warrior indeed. I've heard tales of your conquests. You will be a good influence!"

"I'm not a warrior," the Doctor hissed. "Just because some people got the translation wrong…"

"But Doctor does mean mighty warrior in certain regions of space," Loki interrupted. "Just like in other places it means healer."

"Thank you," he dryly replied. "I don’t like guns or violence…"

"And yet, you always find yourself in the nick of things…"

"River…" He quickly turned, coming face to face with his future wife. "How?"

"I know you, Sweetie," she replied. "You wouldn’t be able to resist getting into trouble."

He scoffed. It wasn’t as if he went looking for it. He just was curious at heart and it wasn’t his fault if the universe was a dangerous place? Besides, it was rather priceless coming from River.

"The others are worried. Jack is threatening to tie you up." She gave him a droll look. "Is there something you might want to tell me?"

He stared at her, not sure if he understood the meaning.

"I might be amendable to letting him try. The outcome could be very amusing."

"For whom?"

"Me of course."

"It's settled then," Thor took charge of the conversation again. "We shall all move into Stark's tower. Then we shall feast, share tales, yes?"

"Sound splendid," River declared.

The Doctor didn’t have to turn around to know that Coulson and the other man were less than pleased with the outcome. He didn’t mind. The earlier he got out of this place, the sooner he could start looking for his poor, neglected ship. With those beasties running around, who knew what had happened to it?

"It's good to see you again," Loki whispered, his hot breath ghosting over his neck. He shivered. He slightly turned so he could sneak a glance at the handsome man. Loki gave him a quick flash of teeth. This was the only warning he got. Seconds later, his lips were on his.

"Oi!" Jack yelled. "Hands of him!"

"Oh, this is going to be good," River declared.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the angst! I am sure the hints in this chapter are pretty clear (I think). Also, I feel the need to point out that I am taking great liberty with the story lines, but I guess you've already noticed if you're come this far. 
> 
> I am having great fun playing with this, and I hope you'll have fun reading it! Thank you for all the kudos and comments, I love them all!

What happened next, he couldn’t be sure. One minute, he'd been close to Loki, in his embrace with Jack stating his claim, and the next, well, it hurt.

Hushed voices floated around him like mist on an autumn morning, close enough for him to hear, but not quite close enough to follow the conversation.

"If he's got amnesia, how come he recognized you?" Jack's accusing voice rose above the whispers, ringing loud and clear in his ears.

"I'm memorable," Loki drawled, not the least bit fazed. "You apparently aren’t."

The snarky comment brought a smile to the Doctor's face. With a groan, he sat up. Or at least he tried. His limbs weren’t quite co-operating with him. Which brought him back again to the first question: what the hell happened?

"Don’t try to move yet," Martha was there, trying to pus him back down.

"If he wants to sit up, let him," Amy put her hands on his shoulders, trying to push him the other way. The situation might've been hilarious if he hadn't been caught up in it.

"Ladies," a voice of reason spoke. "Why don’t you let him decide what he wants to do? Give him some space while you're at it too."

"I'm fine," he finally decided to insert himself in the conversation. "I'm always fine. I'd like to sit up now," he added. Before Martha could move, Amy helped him up, pressing her body tightly against him. She had a protective streak a mile wide.

"You're not fine," she informed him. "People who are fine, don’t collapse for no good reason."

He opened his mouth, trying to protest but Rory, the traitor, had to add. "She's quite right, you know. And I might not be a doctor," he sent a meaningful glance towards Martha. "But even I can tell that what ever is wrong has got nothing to do with you getting hit in the head."

Rory did have a point. The Doctor didn’t want to admit it, but he couldn’t deny it. Something was wrong. He exhaled, shoulders slightly slumping in the process. "Why don’t you tell me what exactly happened?" He looked at Coulson while he was speaking. "I was fine until I tried to assist you less than bright crew trying to take on an entire army. I thought, I was just knocked out…?"

"You were," the agent confirmed. "From what Steve and Natasha said, you got in between her and a Chitauri. There were no injuries on your person save for a gash on your head."

"And I was unconscious for two days? Isn't that a bit excessive?" He asked.

"For all we knew, it might've been normal for your kind. From the tests Bruce ran, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong physically with you, apart form the head wound. And the wound wasn’t even all that deep."

"You had certain deficiencies," Martha explained. "You know, how you get when you're low on potassium. There were other issues with your blood too but mostly I would've put it down to exhaustion and running around too much. You would've woken up eventually but with the transfusion I cooked up for you, you came out of it sooner."

"How do you feel now?" Rory asked, wearing his nurse face. Before he could answer, he added. "If you say, you're _fine_ , I swear to you, I will hit you over the head. Concussion be dammed."

The Doctor closed his mouth with an audible click. A shiver ran through him like a surprising cold gust of wind, rattling his bones. His eyes found Loki's. Neither one looked away.

"You remember me," Loki carefully said, stepping closer. He crouched down, until he was on his knees before him, placing his hands on the Doctor's sighs. He peered up, his vivid green eyes almost glowing as he accessed his magic.

"What is he doing?" Jack whispered.

"Don't interfere," Thor replied just as quietly. "As a matter of fact, I think we should leave them alone. Or is it common practice on Midgard to hold healing assemblies? If so, my apologies. Do we need to gather more men and women? What's the amount of people required in a healing chamber?"

"He has a point. Everyone out," Coulson ordered.

"I'm not leaving," Martha announced. "I'm his doctor. I'm the only one who has any idea of understanding his physiology."

"Fine, you can stay."

"I'm not leaving him alone either," Jack added. "Not with him anyways."

"If he stays, then so am I," Amy wasn’t one to be ignored.

"Everyone out except Martha!" Coulson actually yelled, sounding quite out of place for him. "You can look in through the mirror but everyone else, file out."

"You're honestly leaving him alone with Loki?" Jack didn’t seem to budge. "I read the reports. He nearly leveled the city!"

"If the son of Coul wants you out, then you are leaving the room."

"The hell I am!"

A scuffle followed, but eventually, the Doctor could hear a door opening and closing. Silence followed.

"Just so we understand each other," Martha had come closer. "If you harm him, I will find ways to hurt you."

Loki ignored her, just like the Doctor did. He might be aware of what was happening around him but he wasn’t in any way able to participate.

"As flattered as I am that you remember me when you don’t recall anyone else, I do wonder as to why…"

"Let's find out." Then, the Doctor reached out, placing his hands on Loki's face, closing his eyes. He couldn’t recall the last time he'd initiated a telepathic contact. With Amy and Rory, there had never really been any need for it. Did they even know? He frowned, he had no clue.

_Show me your first memory…from after you were re-born._

It was hard to cast his mind back. There was a barrier there, something he didn’t want to remember, or maybe something he was better off at having forgotten.

Fire was all around him. The TARDIS was exploding, right as he was changing, re-generating. "I don’t want to go." Those words echoed through his mind, touching something buried deeply inside him. A new start meant the end of something old. It was a new chance at new life but also the end of his previous one. And he'd liked his previous life. He'd loved his friends, his companions, and it hurt him to loose them, to see them go.

Rose, gone forever, hopefully happy with his human self. Still, she might've found her ever after but where did that leave him? Alone. And with her gone, he'd lost Jackie, he'd lost the first resemblance of family he'd had in a long time.

Donna, brave and loud, shining with her unique light. Just as he thought he might've found someone new to travel the stars with, she was taken from him too. She had a good life now, but it was a life without him in it. She would never remember the wonders she'd seen, the lives she'd influenced with her courageous actions.

Martha, the doctor turned soldier. He carried a lot of guilt around for her. She'd been sweet, genuinely trying to help people and he'd used her, and her affection for him, to ease the Rose-shaped hole in his heart. He'd come to care for her too, how could he not? But he'd ruined her life, and the life of her family. The world might not remember the year that wasn’t, but they carried the horrid memories around, unable to shake them. Did they still suffer nightmares? How are they coping?

Jack, insufferable flirt with a heart of gold. He'd suffered the most, albeit not directly at his hands. Still, who else could possibly shoulder the blame for what had happened to him? If it hadn't been for him, then Rose would've never tried to come back. She would've never looked into the TARDIS, she would've never resurrected Jack all wrong. The _what if_ game served no purpose, but Jack's life, out of all of them, had been altered the most.

How could he go on, knowing he'd touched so many lives and ruined them?

 _No,_ Loki whispered in his mind. _This isn’t why you can't remember. You're not the type to ignore guilt. You might love to run away from your troubles, but you're no coward. You would try to set things right, not abandon the people who helped you. So what is it? Why do you remember me and not them? What happened?_

Almost out of nowhere, a brick barrier rose up, putting a halt to their journey into the Doctor's mind.

 _Let me through!_ Loki yelled in his mind.

 _No_ , he shouted right back.

The beat of drums rose in the background, like a foreboding of greater evil to come. He withdrew from the link, curling his mind inwards like a small child trying to curl in on himself.

"You remember me," Loki said quietly into the otherwise still air. "You remember me," he repeated, "because in your mind, I'm not connected to Earth. What happened here? What happened to make you re-generate?"

When the Doctor didn’t answer, just staring blankly at him, Loki turned, looking at Martha. "Do you know what happened?"

She shook her head. "I didn’t even know he had regenerated until I got here. I kind of figured something went wrong since he'd never gone so long without any form of contact, but I couldn’t proof anything. For all know, he might just as well have washed his hands of all of us."

Loki got up as the Doctor continued to watch. The sound in his ears retreated until nothing but static remained. The drum beat had been familiar, intoxicating even, and quite important. He was sure of it. But what did it mean? How come he'd never questioned why his regeneration had been this violent? He'd always known it was the cause for his memory to be wiped. But he was curious man at heart, how come he'd never delved into the problem? How come he had just accepted it as the status quo?

Thinking about it now, his attitude towards it made no sense. Unless…unless it was part of the problem.

"How can we find out what happened?" He spoke up eventually. Both sets of eye stared at him. "I know I ended up in Amy's backyard, so whatever happened here, probably concerned Earth."

"There might be records," Martha spun the idea further. "It might not have been like the Christmas Star or some of the other invasions affecting the whole Earth, but whatever it was, surely must've left some sort of mark."

There was a lot of hope in her voice, hope which he shared. Not all his encounters ended up on the news. How often had he saved the Earth, had he saved other civilizations, without there ever been any mention of it? But Martha was right, it was a place to start.

"If we go over what I remember, if we compare it with what Rory and Amy both recall, you could cross-reference it with your own logs, see if anything odd comes up."

"Do you remember then?" Martha asked. "Did Loki manage to bring anything back for you?"

The Doctor pursed his lips. His eyes never waivered, staring right at Martha. "I…" he started to say, unable to finish it. While in the meld with Loki, he'd known. The grief was still there, constricting his heart. And yet, he couldn’t quite claim to know. "I recognize you," he finally settled on saying. "You're familiar now. It's kind of as if I'm looking at events through fog. I can make out shapes, discern some feelings, but as for actual memories, I got nothing."

"But it's more than you had before," she clarified.

"It is," he replied, a slow smile on his face. "It also means that my memories weren’t erased, just buried."

"You thought they had been wiped?"

"New face, new body, so why not a complete blank slate?"

"But you still knew you were the Doctor. You still remember your travels, planets, races…" Martha pointed out. "How come it has never occurred to you why only Earth related memories were gone?"

The Doctor gaped. If put this way, he really sounded like an idiot.

"Mind barrier," Loki came to his help. "When I delved deeper, we ran into a barrier. He practically threw me out. It might be kind of like a perception filter, a force field of sorts. It makes you look away even if you are aware of it. Whatever is causing your memory block, might also be affecting the way you're handling it. Now that you're aware of it, fully aware of it and fighting it, it should get better."

 _Or worse,_ the Doctor silently added. This could go two ways. The barrier might slowly yield now that he was constantly poking at it, releasing what was hidden from him. Or, it could drive him insane.

He winced. There was that noise again. He raised his hands, rubbing at his temples. Just as quickly as it had appeared it was gone.

With his track record, the barrier in his mind wasn’t just going to yield. Why should it? Nothing in his life had ever been easy. Why should this be any different?

He just hoped he wasn’t going to end up an even madder mad-man with a box.


End file.
